Under the arc of a weather stain boards, Ancient goblins, and warlords, Come out the ground, not making a sound, The smell of death is all around, And the night when the cold wind blows, No one cares, nobody knows. I don't want to be buried in a Pet sematary, I don't want to live my life again. I don't want to be buried in a Pet sematary, I don't want to live my life again. Follow Victor to the sacred place, This ain't a dream, I can't escape, Molars and fangs, the clicking of bones, Spirits moaning among the tombstones, And the night, when the moon is bright, Someone cries, something ain't right. I don't want to be buried in a Pet sematary, I don't want to live my life again. I don't want to be buried in a Pet sematary, I don't want to live my life again. The moon is full, the air is still, All of a sudden I feel a chill, Victor is grinning, flesh rotting away, Skeletons dance, I curse this day, And the night when the wolves cry...